FF13 fic, House of Paddra 4 (Yea or Nay)
title: House of Paddra
author: caledon (the_tower_room)
pairing: Hope/Lightning, various
rating: M
summary: AU. Hope is a member of a group of up and coming designers, the House of Paddra. When the Academy's Department of Design issued the greatest challenge they had ever faced, will Lightning provide the needed inspiration to help them win? Inspired by Paradise Kiss.
words: 4002
The interloping girls wasted no time in inviting themselves along to their table, claiming the remaining vacant chairs. Vanille deposited her satchel on hers all the while calling out, "You want the usual, right, Yeul?" before heading over to the counter to place their orders, regardless of whether she was given an answer or not.
A heavy sigh dragged out of Hope as he ran his hands over his face, begrudgingly accepting the fact that the opportunity to keep Lightning-who-is-really-called-Claire to himself even for a little while longer had been lost. Sure, most of their conversation had centred around House of Paddra and the Design Program and not much on personal stuff...But still, to actually have most of the other team members here to talk business and whatever else they could come up with...their not-date was definitely ruined.
It didn't help that his mind kept straying to Yeul's supposed vision of rose petals, and already he was making mental notes on just exactly how to achieve said vision, trying to imagine exactly how it was supposed to look, and then there was amount of work it would take to accomplish it. Would it be fabric flowers or real ones? If real ones were to be used, that would mean they'd have to be fresh, so they had to take into consideration the cost of finding a shop to supply them with the amount they needed at the time they would need it, and also just how much of the flowers they would need. And then also there was the labour of plucking the petals out and compiling them, and then what kind of container(s) was to be used for them and where to store said container(s). He hoped the rose petals would be of a naturally-coloured one, too, because if Yeul saw blue or rainbow-coloured ones, then there'd be the cost of dyes to consider. And then the calculations of the dye mix so as to achieve the correct tint that she wanted. And this was just for the special effect, if Yeul's description was to be believed, and not even the actual outfit itself.
The pungent and mouthwatering scent of Zaghnal Curry Burger brought him back to the present as Vanille deposited her plate on the table and slid over the tray with Smoked Narasimha Maki Rolls over to Yeul. Whilst lost to his own contemplations, it looked as though the table had been cleared by Lightning and the Seeress, and as he caught the tail-end of their conversation, he was disappointed to find that he'd very obviously missed an interesting discussion regarding their potential model. Damn it.
"So you do gymnastics while fighting?" Vanille was asking Lightning as she sat, pulling her chair closer to the table.
"Yeah, the fighting school I went to in Bodhum specialized in doing a lot of somersaults when you're against monsters."
"That's so cool!" The redhead turned to Yeul. "Hey, maybe we can use that as part of the act. Y'know, to show how flexible the material of the garb can be to the wearer. She can twist and twirl and cartwheel down the catwalk or something."
"In between bursts of rose petals, you mean?" muttered Hope snidely, still reeling from trying to figure out how exactly that would work.
The pigtailed young woman's eyes lit up. "Ooh, that's good idea! We should incorporate that." She then proceeded to gobble up her burger as delicately as she could manage, merrily ignoring his sarcasm.
The Seeress, while nibbling on a maki roll, was attentive to Hope's tone and expression, and thus addressed him and his issue, "I think the rose petals as special effects would be one great way of utilizing the Pocketspace Arsenal, since that's a requirement and makes up a good chunk of the cumulative grade for this project."
The lone male hummed as he contemplated her words, but before he could utter a response, she continued, "We'll discuss it further at the scheduled group meeting. We don't have an actual design yet anyway, so it's pointless to start making plans right now."
Hope deflated, conceding to the head of their group with a defeated nod and let her continue her lunch.
"So, do you have a job right now? Do you have family? Significant other? How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" In-between swallowing her meal and drinking her soda, Vanille was bombarding their model-in-potentia with questions.
An annoyed eyebrow rose up, but Claire nevertheless gave a reply to one of the queries. "One of my current jobs is at the Build-A-Moogle at the Galleria, and another is at the Unicorn Mart on Grand Avenue. I had already resigned from my third one and I'd just finished with a job interview when Hope approached me." She frowned, admonishing herself for being a sudden blabbermouth. They didn't really need to know everything about her like that.
"Wow, three jobs already." The questioner was staring at her wide-eyed.
"It's not that unusual," Hope piped up when he saw Lightning/Claire's lips tighten, her blue eyes averting to the table. "Plenty of students at the Academy are also holding multiple jobs while attending school."
"I know," sighed Vanille, a playful look dancing in her eyes as she looked pointedly at Hope. "We can't all be like you, sadly. Over-achiever, multiple diploma-holder, doesn't want to leave the Academy until he's taken all the classes that they offer which makes him ever so boring because he couldn't be bothered to attend the parties around the campus, and he's set for life because of familial connections." She turned back to the rose-haired woman. "Did you know he comes from a line of scientists who are rumoured to have genetically manipulated their offspring using some sort of alien, resulting in super intelligence, super strength, super beauty, super everything?"
Hope rubbed his palm against his face with a groan. "Not that stupid rumour again."
The redhead just cackled at him, looking expectantly to Lightning for a response.
Claire started, glancing back and forth between the two, and supplied, "So, he's a test tube baby...?"
Vanille threw back her head as she guffawed, and even Yeul-who had kept to herself and her meal throughout the exchange-covered her mouth with a hand as she gave a small giggle.
Hope shot the offending redheaded culprit with a glare, which just made her laugh harder, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "You don't have the Crescent stare down pat yet. Still have much to learn from Uncle Jo. Give it a few years."
"Why don't you just keep stuffing your face. Nobody wants to hear you talk anymore," muttered the silver-haired with a long-suffering exhale, then looked askance at Claire. "I'm not."
She turned to him, puzzled. "Not what?"
"Not a test tube baby. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just that I'm not one. And neither are my family."
"Hmm. Okay."
"And well, you already know I'm a Crescent, having met my cousin. That's actually my mother's side of the family."
"Yeah."
Hope fiddled with his thumbs on the table, unsure about how to gauge her rather noncommittal responses. He was almost certain that at the beginning there was interest on her part, though obviously not to the same extent as his was in her. And he couldn't help feeling at a loss since this wasn't the usual way people react to him being a member of the Crescent family, owners of the towering silver building of CrescEnterprises, holders of multitudinous businesses in Academia as well as other major cities. Not to mention his father's side of the family being important figures in the government and industry. Though, on the other hand, he felt immensely relieved that those aspects didn't seem as though they would come between them...nevermind that there wasn't much of a "between them" between them. But he always strove to embody his namesake, so...
He cleared his throat, adopting a business-like tone. "You do have our business card, right?"
Claire patted her pockets, finding it in one. "Yeah, I got it."
"Okay, well. We'd really appreciate if you'd think our offer over. Obviously, we'll work something around your schedule with your other jobs so that we won't get in the way of that. And do come visit us at our studio to let us know of your decision. We're situated in New Town."
At this, Yeul placed her chopsticks down and reached for Claire's hand. "Yes, please do. We'd love to see you again."
With three pairs of green eyes on her, Claire felt the weight of their hopeful expectations for a favourable reply. She allowed herself to nod at each, her gaze meeting Hope's at the last. She felt as though an affirmation was being pulled from her lips, but she steeled herself and settled for, "I can't make any promises."
Somehow, both "yes" and "no" suddenly seemed like very heavy words to her.
All in all, mused Claire as she made her way down the Southern Block of Grand Avenue, it had been a rather interesting day. Fortuitous and fruitful at that, if she could be bothered to be wordy regarding the chance encounters. With some take-out from the Behemoth Joint held in one hand and extra gil in her pocket, she wondered if this day really signaled further change in her life that she should utterly prepare herself for.
One thing at a time, she told herself, mindful of the business card that was sharing the space with the money in her pocket. For tonight at least she wouldn't have to worry about what she and Serah were going to have for dinner. She couldn't ignore the faint nudge at the back of her mind that wondered if this new venture could provide such a regularity as proper meals at the proper times on a daily basis in their lives. It was something that definitely was a pro to accepting the modeling offer.
Claire hopped on the ascending conveyor walkway that would take her to the Alley, then down the south stairs, walking down the familiar labyrinthine path to the southeast corner towards the Watchman's Amulet Apartments that had been home to her and Serah for the past few years. In she went through its nondescript doors and its equally nondescript yet serviceable elevator, gliding up to her floor and then ambled down the hall to door #XIII-2. Home.
Their apartment was high enough to benefit from the afternoon sunlight that interspersed through the tall buildings of Academia, dappling through the window panes, lining their floor with rectangular light and shadows, and they were far enough from Main Street not to be bothered by the sound of passing traffic. She pulled off her jacket and hung it on the hook by the door, slipping off her shoes onto the rack, blue eyes spanning over the space before her. In front of her was the bathroom door and immediately to her left was the kitchen/living room combination with two doors leading to each of her and Serah's bedrooms. Depositing the bag on the counter, she made her way to the loveseat-really the biggest furniture that could fit into the meagre living room space-and flopped down, swiping the remote on the armrest and turning on the television.
Some sort of variety show greeted her, the camera panning over a young blond man and a brunette woman, microphones held close to their mouths as they crooned to each other and the audience. "Bleeding Love", a duet by Lenne Lewis and Roxas, read the caption at the bottom of the screen.
Claire's eyes widened, recognizing the name of the female singer as the one Hope was mentioning during lunch. Something about her favouring his company's rival. Having been made aware of House of Paddra's situation, Claire couldn't help perusing the woman's outfit to examine said competition: Lenne wore a blue top with ruffles on the edging of the neckline and hem, with more ruffles flouncing down her left side. This was paired with a short, black skirt and brown, knee-high boots.
Not bad, I suppose, thought Claire with a frown, and tried to conjure an image of herself in it, shaking her head at the laughable picture she made, rising and making her way to the bathroom to examine herself at the full-length mirror hanging at the back of the door.
Pink hair curtained down on either side of her cheeks, framing a face that was remarkably clear of blemish for all the lack of care that she took to it, only bothering to use soap and water whenever she washed, compared to Serah's myriad bottles of cleansers and moisturizers and who knew what else that littered the small countertop around the sink behind her. She never really thought much about her nose, but she figured it was alright; it functioned as it should, and really, that was all that mattered about it. Her eyebrows were shapeless, left au naturel, as it were, and her eyes were a lighter shade of blue than her sister's. Her lips were thin, just slightly chapped. Her figure was slender, and muscled from the various labourious jobs she'd taken, and her breasts...well, they were alright, she supposed, cupping them. Not too big and not too small, never getting in her way. Turning around, she looked over her shoulder, brows furrowing. She couldn't say much about her ass. It was there. Part of her body. Normal as normal could be.
Facing her reflection again, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was that Hope saw, what it was that had made his breath catch and compelled him to approach her, made him late for his appointment so that he could pursue her, made him act desperate enough to cajole and make offerings so as to not let her slip through his fingers, because she herself just couldn't see it. As flattered as her treacherous heart felt at the attention, a simple, ordinary woman just stared back at her, too old for her shoes and slightly haggard, past the prime of the youth that she never really underwent to be bothered being looked at as some object of desire to someone with silver hair and green eyes, no matter the skip in her pulse as she thought of him.
Shrugging, she averted her gaze and went back to her place on the loveseat, grateful that the song was over. But she changed the channel nonetheless, not wanting to be reminded of her unexpected encounter earlier that day, especially of the green eyes that she couldn't seem to get out of her mind.
Startled from her impromptu doze, Claire peered over the back of the loveseat to the source of the noise that woke her.
"Hey sis!" greeted Serah as she closed the apartment door behind her, wincing at the noise it made as she slipped off her shoes and placed them on the rack underneath the coat hooks by the door. She was a sprightly seventeen-year-old with pink hair and blue eyes much like Claire, her face round and her smile easy, exuberant and supportive, knowing full well how much her older sister had sacrificed to look after her after both their parents died.
"Hey," whispered Claire groggily as she uncurled her limbs from the cushions, sitting up straight as she rubbed a hand down her face, rolling the kink from her neck.
"Sorry I woke you."
The older Farron cleared her throat, waving a hand. "Nah. Don't worry about it." She pointed to the bag on the counter. "I got us some burgers and fries for dinner."
A smile lit Serah's features, and she deposited her schoolbag on a stool by the counter to rifle through the paper bag proudly sporting the Behemoth Joint logo, grabbing a fry and popping it into her mouth, grinning delightedly as she chewed. "Thanks, sis." She squeezed her sister from behind the loveseat, leaving an arm slung over Claire's shoulder as she swung herself over the back of the seat to plop next to her.
Claire patted Serah's leg. "How's school?"
The younger Farron crinkled her nose. "The same. We had a pop quiz in Science which really sucked, but I think I did alright. How about you? How was the interview?"
Claire's lips curled lopsidedly. "Failed it. But something else came up out of the blue...something good, I think...that I kinda have a hard time deciding what to do with."
"Oh?" Serah's eyes widened, perking up at her sister's expression. Normally a failed job interview resulted in her sister's grouchy mood, but seeing a wistful look in its place piqued Serah's interest. "Sounds intriguing. What was it?"
Claire's lips opened and closed as she sought for words, which only incited Serah's growing excitement, turning to her side to tuck her feet underneath her, turning to face her fully.
"I, um...well, I'd just left the building where I had the interview and while outside walking I got offered a job. Modeling clothes for a small fashion company-"
"Modeling?! Areyouseriousohmygoshyou'retotallytakingitrightright?" Serah shook her, fingers digging into her shoulders, emitting a shrill shriek that had Claire wincing and trying to draw away from her. Then all of a sudden, the teenager stopped. "-Wait! You said 'out of the blue'. Come to think of it, this sounds pretty shady. What fashion company? Are they legit?"
"They're called House of Paddra-"
"Ohmygosh?! Prada?! Eeek!"
"No, Paddra, like the ancient ruined city at Yaschas Massif...I think that's where it is."
"Oh. Well, never heard of them. Definitely shady."
"Let me finish before you jump to conclusions."
"Fine."
"So, they're called House of Paddra, and they're actually a group of students from the Academy's Department of Design."
"Huh. So that's why I've never heard of them."
"Well, they have this big project happening, and for some reason they figured that I'm a suitable model to represent them."
"Hmm." Serah was tapping a finger against her chin, blue eyes narrowed in thought. "If they're students themselves, how are they going to pay you?"
"Their fashion company is being run as a business as part of their curriculum, and they already did pay me."
"An advance? They move pretty quick. They really must want you to be their model."
"Actually, it's for a small gig I kinda did for them."
"Wow, they are quick."
"No, it's...I guess 'a trial run' is what it's called. The guy-he's the engineer of the company-well, he ran into me on his way to deliver some clothes that they made, and that's when he asked me if I'm interested in modeling for them-"
"Wait, wait, wait. So this guy just walks up to you out of nowhere and tells you he wants you to model for them just like that?" Serah punctuated the last word with a snap of her fingers. "Shaaady," she singsonged, before sobering up. "Not that I'm saying you're ugly or anything, but that's a bit unbelievable."
"Thanks," deadpanned Claire.
"You know what I mean. Well, is he at least cute?"
Claire pretended she didn't hear that and continued on, "Anyway, he also offered a business lunch meeting-"
"-So he got you with food?" Serah eyed the paper bag on the counter. "Wow. He got you good by going straight for your favourite. He actually got you to go out with him on a date masquerading as a business meeting. How cunning. Now I'm not so sure what to think of this guy-"
Claire pursed her lips before emphatically continuing. "-But since he still had that appointment to go to, he invited me to come along to it and we got to talking along the way, and we agreed to do a trial run by modeling the clothes to his clients. And he paid me for that."
"Just like that."
"Just like that. And then we went to lunch and I got to meet the other members of his group. They seem alright."
"Oh. It's not just the two of you then."
"No. So it's definitely not a date. It never was."
Serah blew a raspberry, disappointment in her eyes. She was rather hoping that her sister would find some sort of social life and not simply lose herself to her jobs all the time. She figured this could be the beginning of that, based on Claire's uncustomary reactions so far, despite Serah's own meandering impressions of the man in question. She perked up as she decided to focus on something else. "Well, what do you think of the clothes they make? Do they look great?"
"Hmm...I suppose."
"You suppose?"
"Well, I don't really know much about fashion, but I guess their clothes are appropriately fashionable."
Serah shook her head, side ponytail swinging. "Claire. Seriously. You're hopeless."
At that, the elder Farron couldn't help the warmth that suddenly suffused her cheeks, a traitorous grin playing at the edge of her lips. Why can't she seem to control herself today? It was all she could do to keep herself in check when he was in front of her. And now he's not even here, and still... "That's his name actually. Hope."
"Huh." Serah sat back, a giddy smile spreading wide on her lips, and she lifted a hand over her heart. "My, I do declare. You like him like him."
"Wha-No, it's nothing like that. He's nice. Friendly. Smart. Seems to have a good mind for business."
"Uh-huh. So I noticed you never answered me when I asked if he was cute. Well, is he?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Why won't you just answer?"
"Because."
Serah waited expectantly, a knowing look dancing in her eyes. "Because what?"
"Because. It doesn't have to do with anything."
Serah rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Yes or no, Claire."
"What?"
"Yes or no?"
"The hell?"
"'Yes, he's cute' or 'no, he's hideous and shady with boils growing all over him?'"
"Wha-he doesn't-wha-"
"Yes or no?"
"Grhg-yes-arrgh."
"Did you just growl yes?"
"Yes," muttered Claire through gritted teeth.
"See, it's not so hard to say, is it?"
Claire rolled her eyes, wishing her face would stop heating up.
"So, what does he look like?"
"Ugh." Claire quickly rose from her seat and stomped to her bedroom, slamming the door shut.
Serah blinked, a giggle erupting out of her at the uncharacteristic way her sister acted. What just happened? she thought amusedly as she made her way to her bag to take out her laptop, opening a browser and typing "House of Paddra" in the search engine, feeling curious about this new venture that her sister seemed to be getting into. It wouldn't hurt to find some information about this group, after all.
She clicked on the top website that resulted in the search, and was taken to the official site of the House of Paddra.
Welcome, it read. Combat Clothing Specialist, Department of Design, The Academy. Our garbs can be imbued with strength, magic, defense, or offense boosters, or even exclusive special attacks. What ever you need, we can customize it for you. Armours, accessories, and weapons can be made to order. Please see our catalogue or visit B&W Outfitters for ready-to-wear casuals if you'd like something off the rack. Thank you for visiting.
She pored over the links at the top of the page, more driven by the idea of the man that had gotten her sister relatively flustered, ignoring the link to the gallery of their designs for a later perusal, and clicked "About Us", her lips curling in disappointment to find that there were no pictures of the people involved, only names and their roles.
Let's see, she thought as she scrolled through the page. Claire said his name is Hope...so-aha! Hope Estheim. She highlighted his name and copied it into the search engine, eyebrows raising, eyes widening, and mouth gaping as she studied the results.
No way...
"Claire!" yelled Serah over her shoulder, glaring at her sister's closed door. "Ohmygosh, you better take that job!"
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previous chapter | next chapter
author: caledon (the_tower_room)
pairing: Hope/Lightning, various
rating: M
summary: AU. Hope is a member of a group of up and coming designers, the House of Paddra. When the Academy's Department of Design issued the greatest challenge they had ever faced, will Lightning provide the needed inspiration to help them win? Inspired by Paradise Kiss.
words: 4002
The interloping girls wasted no time in inviting themselves along to their table, claiming the remaining vacant chairs. Vanille deposited her satchel on hers all the while calling out, "You want the usual, right, Yeul?" before heading over to the counter to place their orders, regardless of whether she was given an answer or not.
A heavy sigh dragged out of Hope as he ran his hands over his face, begrudgingly accepting the fact that the opportunity to keep Lightning-who-is-really-called-Claire to himself even for a little while longer had been lost. Sure, most of their conversation had centred around House of Paddra and the Design Program and not much on personal stuff...But still, to actually have most of the other team members here to talk business and whatever else they could come up with...their not-date was definitely ruined.
It didn't help that his mind kept straying to Yeul's supposed vision of rose petals, and already he was making mental notes on just exactly how to achieve said vision, trying to imagine exactly how it was supposed to look, and then there was amount of work it would take to accomplish it. Would it be fabric flowers or real ones? If real ones were to be used, that would mean they'd have to be fresh, so they had to take into consideration the cost of finding a shop to supply them with the amount they needed at the time they would need it, and also just how much of the flowers they would need. And then also there was the labour of plucking the petals out and compiling them, and then what kind of container(s) was to be used for them and where to store said container(s). He hoped the rose petals would be of a naturally-coloured one, too, because if Yeul saw blue or rainbow-coloured ones, then there'd be the cost of dyes to consider. And then the calculations of the dye mix so as to achieve the correct tint that she wanted. And this was just for the special effect, if Yeul's description was to be believed, and not even the actual outfit itself.
The pungent and mouthwatering scent of Zaghnal Curry Burger brought him back to the present as Vanille deposited her plate on the table and slid over the tray with Smoked Narasimha Maki Rolls over to Yeul. Whilst lost to his own contemplations, it looked as though the table had been cleared by Lightning and the Seeress, and as he caught the tail-end of their conversation, he was disappointed to find that he'd very obviously missed an interesting discussion regarding their potential model. Damn it.
"So you do gymnastics while fighting?" Vanille was asking Lightning as she sat, pulling her chair closer to the table.
"Yeah, the fighting school I went to in Bodhum specialized in doing a lot of somersaults when you're against monsters."
"That's so cool!" The redhead turned to Yeul. "Hey, maybe we can use that as part of the act. Y'know, to show how flexible the material of the garb can be to the wearer. She can twist and twirl and cartwheel down the catwalk or something."
"In between bursts of rose petals, you mean?" muttered Hope snidely, still reeling from trying to figure out how exactly that would work.
The pigtailed young woman's eyes lit up. "Ooh, that's good idea! We should incorporate that." She then proceeded to gobble up her burger as delicately as she could manage, merrily ignoring his sarcasm.
The Seeress, while nibbling on a maki roll, was attentive to Hope's tone and expression, and thus addressed him and his issue, "I think the rose petals as special effects would be one great way of utilizing the Pocketspace Arsenal, since that's a requirement and makes up a good chunk of the cumulative grade for this project."
The lone male hummed as he contemplated her words, but before he could utter a response, she continued, "We'll discuss it further at the scheduled group meeting. We don't have an actual design yet anyway, so it's pointless to start making plans right now."
Hope deflated, conceding to the head of their group with a defeated nod and let her continue her lunch.
"So, do you have a job right now? Do you have family? Significant other? How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" In-between swallowing her meal and drinking her soda, Vanille was bombarding their model-in-potentia with questions.
An annoyed eyebrow rose up, but Claire nevertheless gave a reply to one of the queries. "One of my current jobs is at the Build-A-Moogle at the Galleria, and another is at the Unicorn Mart on Grand Avenue. I had already resigned from my third one and I'd just finished with a job interview when Hope approached me." She frowned, admonishing herself for being a sudden blabbermouth. They didn't really need to know everything about her like that.
"Wow, three jobs already." The questioner was staring at her wide-eyed.
"It's not that unusual," Hope piped up when he saw Lightning/Claire's lips tighten, her blue eyes averting to the table. "Plenty of students at the Academy are also holding multiple jobs while attending school."
"I know," sighed Vanille, a playful look dancing in her eyes as she looked pointedly at Hope. "We can't all be like you, sadly. Over-achiever, multiple diploma-holder, doesn't want to leave the Academy until he's taken all the classes that they offer which makes him ever so boring because he couldn't be bothered to attend the parties around the campus, and he's set for life because of familial connections." She turned back to the rose-haired woman. "Did you know he comes from a line of scientists who are rumoured to have genetically manipulated their offspring using some sort of alien, resulting in super intelligence, super strength, super beauty, super everything?"
Hope rubbed his palm against his face with a groan. "Not that stupid rumour again."
The redhead just cackled at him, looking expectantly to Lightning for a response.
Claire started, glancing back and forth between the two, and supplied, "So, he's a test tube baby...?"
Vanille threw back her head as she guffawed, and even Yeul-who had kept to herself and her meal throughout the exchange-covered her mouth with a hand as she gave a small giggle.
Hope shot the offending redheaded culprit with a glare, which just made her laugh harder, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "You don't have the Crescent stare down pat yet. Still have much to learn from Uncle Jo. Give it a few years."
"Why don't you just keep stuffing your face. Nobody wants to hear you talk anymore," muttered the silver-haired with a long-suffering exhale, then looked askance at Claire. "I'm not."
She turned to him, puzzled. "Not what?"
"Not a test tube baby. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just that I'm not one. And neither are my family."
"Hmm. Okay."
"And well, you already know I'm a Crescent, having met my cousin. That's actually my mother's side of the family."
"Yeah."
Hope fiddled with his thumbs on the table, unsure about how to gauge her rather noncommittal responses. He was almost certain that at the beginning there was interest on her part, though obviously not to the same extent as his was in her. And he couldn't help feeling at a loss since this wasn't the usual way people react to him being a member of the Crescent family, owners of the towering silver building of CrescEnterprises, holders of multitudinous businesses in Academia as well as other major cities. Not to mention his father's side of the family being important figures in the government and industry. Though, on the other hand, he felt immensely relieved that those aspects didn't seem as though they would come between them...nevermind that there wasn't much of a "between them" between them. But he always strove to embody his namesake, so...
He cleared his throat, adopting a business-like tone. "You do have our business card, right?"
Claire patted her pockets, finding it in one. "Yeah, I got it."
"Okay, well. We'd really appreciate if you'd think our offer over. Obviously, we'll work something around your schedule with your other jobs so that we won't get in the way of that. And do come visit us at our studio to let us know of your decision. We're situated in New Town."
At this, Yeul placed her chopsticks down and reached for Claire's hand. "Yes, please do. We'd love to see you again."
With three pairs of green eyes on her, Claire felt the weight of their hopeful expectations for a favourable reply. She allowed herself to nod at each, her gaze meeting Hope's at the last. She felt as though an affirmation was being pulled from her lips, but she steeled herself and settled for, "I can't make any promises."
Somehow, both "yes" and "no" suddenly seemed like very heavy words to her.
All in all, mused Claire as she made her way down the Southern Block of Grand Avenue, it had been a rather interesting day. Fortuitous and fruitful at that, if she could be bothered to be wordy regarding the chance encounters. With some take-out from the Behemoth Joint held in one hand and extra gil in her pocket, she wondered if this day really signaled further change in her life that she should utterly prepare herself for.
One thing at a time, she told herself, mindful of the business card that was sharing the space with the money in her pocket. For tonight at least she wouldn't have to worry about what she and Serah were going to have for dinner. She couldn't ignore the faint nudge at the back of her mind that wondered if this new venture could provide such a regularity as proper meals at the proper times on a daily basis in their lives. It was something that definitely was a pro to accepting the modeling offer.
Claire hopped on the ascending conveyor walkway that would take her to the Alley, then down the south stairs, walking down the familiar labyrinthine path to the southeast corner towards the Watchman's Amulet Apartments that had been home to her and Serah for the past few years. In she went through its nondescript doors and its equally nondescript yet serviceable elevator, gliding up to her floor and then ambled down the hall to door #XIII-2. Home.
Their apartment was high enough to benefit from the afternoon sunlight that interspersed through the tall buildings of Academia, dappling through the window panes, lining their floor with rectangular light and shadows, and they were far enough from Main Street not to be bothered by the sound of passing traffic. She pulled off her jacket and hung it on the hook by the door, slipping off her shoes onto the rack, blue eyes spanning over the space before her. In front of her was the bathroom door and immediately to her left was the kitchen/living room combination with two doors leading to each of her and Serah's bedrooms. Depositing the bag on the counter, she made her way to the loveseat-really the biggest furniture that could fit into the meagre living room space-and flopped down, swiping the remote on the armrest and turning on the television.
Some sort of variety show greeted her, the camera panning over a young blond man and a brunette woman, microphones held close to their mouths as they crooned to each other and the audience. "Bleeding Love", a duet by Lenne Lewis and Roxas, read the caption at the bottom of the screen.
Claire's eyes widened, recognizing the name of the female singer as the one Hope was mentioning during lunch. Something about her favouring his company's rival. Having been made aware of House of Paddra's situation, Claire couldn't help perusing the woman's outfit to examine said competition: Lenne wore a blue top with ruffles on the edging of the neckline and hem, with more ruffles flouncing down her left side. This was paired with a short, black skirt and brown, knee-high boots.
Not bad, I suppose, thought Claire with a frown, and tried to conjure an image of herself in it, shaking her head at the laughable picture she made, rising and making her way to the bathroom to examine herself at the full-length mirror hanging at the back of the door.
Pink hair curtained down on either side of her cheeks, framing a face that was remarkably clear of blemish for all the lack of care that she took to it, only bothering to use soap and water whenever she washed, compared to Serah's myriad bottles of cleansers and moisturizers and who knew what else that littered the small countertop around the sink behind her. She never really thought much about her nose, but she figured it was alright; it functioned as it should, and really, that was all that mattered about it. Her eyebrows were shapeless, left au naturel, as it were, and her eyes were a lighter shade of blue than her sister's. Her lips were thin, just slightly chapped. Her figure was slender, and muscled from the various labourious jobs she'd taken, and her breasts...well, they were alright, she supposed, cupping them. Not too big and not too small, never getting in her way. Turning around, she looked over her shoulder, brows furrowing. She couldn't say much about her ass. It was there. Part of her body. Normal as normal could be.
Facing her reflection again, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was that Hope saw, what it was that had made his breath catch and compelled him to approach her, made him late for his appointment so that he could pursue her, made him act desperate enough to cajole and make offerings so as to not let her slip through his fingers, because she herself just couldn't see it. As flattered as her treacherous heart felt at the attention, a simple, ordinary woman just stared back at her, too old for her shoes and slightly haggard, past the prime of the youth that she never really underwent to be bothered being looked at as some object of desire to someone with silver hair and green eyes, no matter the skip in her pulse as she thought of him.
Shrugging, she averted her gaze and went back to her place on the loveseat, grateful that the song was over. But she changed the channel nonetheless, not wanting to be reminded of her unexpected encounter earlier that day, especially of the green eyes that she couldn't seem to get out of her mind.
Startled from her impromptu doze, Claire peered over the back of the loveseat to the source of the noise that woke her.
"Hey sis!" greeted Serah as she closed the apartment door behind her, wincing at the noise it made as she slipped off her shoes and placed them on the rack underneath the coat hooks by the door. She was a sprightly seventeen-year-old with pink hair and blue eyes much like Claire, her face round and her smile easy, exuberant and supportive, knowing full well how much her older sister had sacrificed to look after her after both their parents died.
"Hey," whispered Claire groggily as she uncurled her limbs from the cushions, sitting up straight as she rubbed a hand down her face, rolling the kink from her neck.
"Sorry I woke you."
The older Farron cleared her throat, waving a hand. "Nah. Don't worry about it." She pointed to the bag on the counter. "I got us some burgers and fries for dinner."
A smile lit Serah's features, and she deposited her schoolbag on a stool by the counter to rifle through the paper bag proudly sporting the Behemoth Joint logo, grabbing a fry and popping it into her mouth, grinning delightedly as she chewed. "Thanks, sis." She squeezed her sister from behind the loveseat, leaving an arm slung over Claire's shoulder as she swung herself over the back of the seat to plop next to her.
Claire patted Serah's leg. "How's school?"
The younger Farron crinkled her nose. "The same. We had a pop quiz in Science which really sucked, but I think I did alright. How about you? How was the interview?"
Claire's lips curled lopsidedly. "Failed it. But something else came up out of the blue...something good, I think...that I kinda have a hard time deciding what to do with."
"Oh?" Serah's eyes widened, perking up at her sister's expression. Normally a failed job interview resulted in her sister's grouchy mood, but seeing a wistful look in its place piqued Serah's interest. "Sounds intriguing. What was it?"
Claire's lips opened and closed as she sought for words, which only incited Serah's growing excitement, turning to her side to tuck her feet underneath her, turning to face her fully.
"I, um...well, I'd just left the building where I had the interview and while outside walking I got offered a job. Modeling clothes for a small fashion company-"
"Modeling?! Areyouseriousohmygoshyou'retotallytakingitrightright?" Serah shook her, fingers digging into her shoulders, emitting a shrill shriek that had Claire wincing and trying to draw away from her. Then all of a sudden, the teenager stopped. "-Wait! You said 'out of the blue'. Come to think of it, this sounds pretty shady. What fashion company? Are they legit?"
"They're called House of Paddra-"
"Ohmygosh?! Prada?! Eeek!"
"No, Paddra, like the ancient ruined city at Yaschas Massif...I think that's where it is."
"Oh. Well, never heard of them. Definitely shady."
"Let me finish before you jump to conclusions."
"Fine."
"So, they're called House of Paddra, and they're actually a group of students from the Academy's Department of Design."
"Huh. So that's why I've never heard of them."
"Well, they have this big project happening, and for some reason they figured that I'm a suitable model to represent them."
"Hmm." Serah was tapping a finger against her chin, blue eyes narrowed in thought. "If they're students themselves, how are they going to pay you?"
"Their fashion company is being run as a business as part of their curriculum, and they already did pay me."
"An advance? They move pretty quick. They really must want you to be their model."
"Actually, it's for a small gig I kinda did for them."
"Wow, they are quick."
"No, it's...I guess 'a trial run' is what it's called. The guy-he's the engineer of the company-well, he ran into me on his way to deliver some clothes that they made, and that's when he asked me if I'm interested in modeling for them-"
"Wait, wait, wait. So this guy just walks up to you out of nowhere and tells you he wants you to model for them just like that?" Serah punctuated the last word with a snap of her fingers. "Shaaady," she singsonged, before sobering up. "Not that I'm saying you're ugly or anything, but that's a bit unbelievable."
"Thanks," deadpanned Claire.
"You know what I mean. Well, is he at least cute?"
Claire pretended she didn't hear that and continued on, "Anyway, he also offered a business lunch meeting-"
"-So he got you with food?" Serah eyed the paper bag on the counter. "Wow. He got you good by going straight for your favourite. He actually got you to go out with him on a date masquerading as a business meeting. How cunning. Now I'm not so sure what to think of this guy-"
Claire pursed her lips before emphatically continuing. "-But since he still had that appointment to go to, he invited me to come along to it and we got to talking along the way, and we agreed to do a trial run by modeling the clothes to his clients. And he paid me for that."
"Just like that."
"Just like that. And then we went to lunch and I got to meet the other members of his group. They seem alright."
"Oh. It's not just the two of you then."
"No. So it's definitely not a date. It never was."
Serah blew a raspberry, disappointment in her eyes. She was rather hoping that her sister would find some sort of social life and not simply lose herself to her jobs all the time. She figured this could be the beginning of that, based on Claire's uncustomary reactions so far, despite Serah's own meandering impressions of the man in question. She perked up as she decided to focus on something else. "Well, what do you think of the clothes they make? Do they look great?"
"Hmm...I suppose."
"You suppose?"
"Well, I don't really know much about fashion, but I guess their clothes are appropriately fashionable."
Serah shook her head, side ponytail swinging. "Claire. Seriously. You're hopeless."
At that, the elder Farron couldn't help the warmth that suddenly suffused her cheeks, a traitorous grin playing at the edge of her lips. Why can't she seem to control herself today? It was all she could do to keep herself in check when he was in front of her. And now he's not even here, and still... "That's his name actually. Hope."
"Huh." Serah sat back, a giddy smile spreading wide on her lips, and she lifted a hand over her heart. "My, I do declare. You like him like him."
"Wha-No, it's nothing like that. He's nice. Friendly. Smart. Seems to have a good mind for business."
"Uh-huh. So I noticed you never answered me when I asked if he was cute. Well, is he?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Why won't you just answer?"
"Because."
Serah waited expectantly, a knowing look dancing in her eyes. "Because what?"
"Because. It doesn't have to do with anything."
Serah rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Yes or no, Claire."
"What?"
"Yes or no?"
"The hell?"
"'Yes, he's cute' or 'no, he's hideous and shady with boils growing all over him?'"
"Wha-he doesn't-wha-"
"Yes or no?"
"Grhg-yes-arrgh."
"Did you just growl yes?"
"Yes," muttered Claire through gritted teeth.
"See, it's not so hard to say, is it?"
Claire rolled her eyes, wishing her face would stop heating up.
"So, what does he look like?"
"Ugh." Claire quickly rose from her seat and stomped to her bedroom, slamming the door shut.
Serah blinked, a giggle erupting out of her at the uncharacteristic way her sister acted. What just happened? she thought amusedly as she made her way to her bag to take out her laptop, opening a browser and typing "House of Paddra" in the search engine, feeling curious about this new venture that her sister seemed to be getting into. It wouldn't hurt to find some information about this group, after all.
She clicked on the top website that resulted in the search, and was taken to the official site of the House of Paddra.
Welcome, it read. Combat Clothing Specialist, Department of Design, The Academy. Our garbs can be imbued with strength, magic, defense, or offense boosters, or even exclusive special attacks. What ever you need, we can customize it for you. Armours, accessories, and weapons can be made to order. Please see our catalogue or visit B&W Outfitters for ready-to-wear casuals if you'd like something off the rack. Thank you for visiting.
She pored over the links at the top of the page, more driven by the idea of the man that had gotten her sister relatively flustered, ignoring the link to the gallery of their designs for a later perusal, and clicked "About Us", her lips curling in disappointment to find that there were no pictures of the people involved, only names and their roles.
Let's see, she thought as she scrolled through the page. Claire said his name is Hope...so-aha! Hope Estheim. She highlighted his name and copied it into the search engine, eyebrows raising, eyes widening, and mouth gaping as she studied the results.
No way...
"Claire!" yelled Serah over her shoulder, glaring at her sister's closed door. "Ohmygosh, you better take that job!"
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